Black Beauty
by csinyfan28
Summary: "She probably shouldn't have but she allowed the corners of her lips to curl upwards, giving him one of her crooked smiles as she tipped her head." "He probably shouldn't have but he allowed his hand to reach out and take a few stray strands, tucking them behind her ear." One-shot. Rated M for content.


**Black Beauty**

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"I think the emergency generator should kick in soon," Jo said as she peered out his car window that was blurred with heavy rain. She let out a pent breath, thinking how on earth she was going to make it up sixteen flights of stairs in the dark by herself.

Mac was listening to her soft voice as he too, peered out the car window to look at her dark apartment building. The storm hit about an hour ago just as they were making their way out of the crime lab. From what she had told him this morning, he knew that the oil change indicator had clicked on in her car this morning so he offered to drive her home instead of having her run all over to catch a subway in this downpour.

Just around third avenue, fifteen minutes from where her apartment was, they both noticed how the traffic lights flickered and how all of the sudden, the entire avenue morphed into a monochromatic blackness. The storm was intense as the rain came down by buckets, disabling them to see even the car in front of them and forcing him to turn on his four-way lights. And it was evident that same blackness engulfed her apartment building too.

"At least there will be a few lights in the hallways," she added while she continued to look out the window as if the rain was particularly interesting.

His eyebrows furrowed upon hearing her comment as a gesture of momentary shock. His usual baritone voice raised an octave as he asked, "What do you mean by _a few lights in the hallways_? You don't have one?"

With a guilty expression and a soft giggle she replied, "Whoops."

He let out a sigh but a chuckle followed afterwards, as he should've suspected that Jo would not have been the person to purchase an emergency generator for her apartment. After a tiring day, all he wanted to do was go home and take a hot shower but he didn't want her to struggle up her apartment alone in the dark. He was sure that she was more than capable of handling the situation but a part of him wanted to be with her…. Just a little longer.

"Alright, see you tomorrow, Mac." She said as she placed her hand on the door handle.

Quickly and instinctively, he replied, "Wait". He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over to the passenger side, his arm gently brushing against her knees, to open the glove box. Reaching in, he grabbed the small flashlight that was sitting inside. He turned it on to make sure it worked and when he found that it did, he turned it off and held it firmly in his hand. Taking the key out of the ignition, he turned to her and said, "I'll walk you up."

She was going to respond with a simple, '_you don't have to'_ or '_no, it's alright'_ but he beat her to it as he quickly asked, "Ready?"

They both mentally counted to three and also silently cursed at the rather long distance from where they were parked to the entrance of the apartment building. He opened his door first and she quickly followed his action. They ran as fast as their feet could take them but the rain was simply too heavy to keep any part of their body dry. The rain hit their skin hard and the force of them running against it caused slight shocks of pain on their faces.

"Geeze, it's like Sandy 2.0 out there," Jo quipped as she entered into the dark apartment building, immediately feeling cold as the cool atmosphere hugged against her wet skin, causing her to shiver. She brushed herself off, stopping when she realized her attempt to dry off was completely useless.

He saw her shiver, the quiet chatter of her teeth and the vigorous rubbing of her arm to warm up. He took off his black suit jacket, although wet, he thought it would provide her with some sort of warmth. After they entered the second layer of doors, he draped his jacket over her shoulders and gave her a soft smile.

She turned around immediately and looked at him as she felt the heavy fabric drape over her shoulders. She murmured a quiet, "Thank you" accompanied by a genuine, grateful smile. She threaded her arms through its sleeves and although the fabric was wet, it provided her a bit of warmth. She saw him walk over to the elevator. Knowing what he was about to do, she said with a small grin, "I don't think the elevator… "

He thought the main generator would power the elevator and smirked embarrassingly at his attempt. Letting out a small chuckle he agreed, "I don't think so either."

Laughing, she pointed to her right where the exit to the stairs was located. Continuing her giggle, she quipped, "You ready for sixteen flights of excruciatingly painful fun? Put those old knees to use?"

"Funny. Let's go."

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She walked in front of him and he followed closely behind her, the flashlight illuminating their path. She never ran out of things to talk about and. It was simple small talk; nothing flirty because she knew he that was, as of now, out of bounds. By the fourth floor, she was sure that he was already sick of her as by the fifth floor, his answers were usually, "_mhmm_", or "_Oh, is that so?"_ and if she was lucky, she would spark a soft chuckle in him. She had to continue talking because it was the only way she could stay calm.

As the turned the corner to the next flight of stairs she joked, "Ellie's at Ann's and she's probably screaming her head off. She's terrified of storms and especially the dark."

"A brave girl like her?" He asked with a raised brow, continuing to follow suit behind her.

"Hey, I am too. Why do you think I keep yapping away? It stops me from thinking about the storm and how creepily dark it is."

He shook his head and laughed as a small gesture of disbelief. A detective scared of thunderstorms? That was a definitely a story to tell. He didn't mind or snort at the fact because he simply learned something new about her and admired that she was as human as everyone else. He noticed a small flicker and furrowed his brows. Looking down at the flashlight in his hand he cursed, "Damn. Dead."

She muffled a frustrated groan. Reaching to the back pocket of her jeans, she suggested, "I'll use the light from my cell." She let another throaty, aggravated groan as the little device did not seem to light up no matter how many times to she pressed the _home_ button on her iPhone. Blowing out a defeated breath, she mumbled, "Dead too."

She noticed that he started shuffling and assumed that he was reaching inside his pant pocket for his phone. He was the boss, he needs his phone for so many reasons and its power should not be wasted on using it as a light. She chuckled softly and said, "No, no. You need your phone. "

He was baffled as to how she knew what he was doing. She was right; she was really perceptive and apparently a mind reader, too. He heard her breath in sharply, evidently uncomfortable with the narrow steps and the almost monochromatic blackness. In the thick darkness, he felt something brush up against his hand and he was about to instinctively react and swat it away. When he realized that it was her hand holding on to his, his head told him to swat it away too because if he were to be '_okay_' with it, it would be suggestive and _wrong_. But when he felt the softness of her hands in his, he told his head to forfeit and he held on to her too. He shook his previous thought away and replaced it with a new one; _we're both adults._

As she was walking up the stairs to the next floor, she missed a step and her body halted forwards. Her hand instinctively flung in front of her to lessen the force of the impact. She felt his hands around her waist, presumably in attempt to keep her from falling as he called it, "Careful!". But she kept tumbling forward until her fall was broken by her knee slamming against the concrete step, causing her to curse and cry out in pain. "Shit!"

With one hand still on her waist and the other lifting her elbow to help her up, he noticed how impeccably slim she was and it made him furrow his brows. He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner as it suddenly occurred to him right now that she has lost quite a few pounds in comparison to when she started. Was it the stress of this job that caused her weight to drop? Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear when she told him, "I'm okay, Mac." When she said it the second time, he finally heard her, letting go of her elbow and waist so they could proceed up the building.

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"Alright, here we are… where are those keys?" She asked herself as she rummaged through the depths of her cross-body purse, trying to find them in the dark hallway that was dimly lit with only one emergency light. Finally finding them, she opened the door and tumbled into her dark apartment.

He followed behind her and took out his phone to use a temporary flashlight, defying her previous order. He waited by the door while she took off her shoes, not bothering to take off his, as he would be leaving anyway. He saw that she also took of her socks, smiling at the fact that she was a woman of bare feet and red toe polish. He breathed in the scent of her home and to his surprise, it was comforting to him; it smelled just like her with one small difference. Her home had a slight scent of warm cinnamon along with vanilla and he assumed that it was her candles or potpourri. The sudden though of her in a hot bubble bath surrounded by glowing candles flooded his mind along with the thought of her….

"Would you kindly help me light some candles before you leave? Pretty please?" Her mockingly sarcastic and endearing voice sweetly brought him out of his thoughts.

"Sure," he answered as he slipped his shoes off and followed slowly behind her.

She walked into her kitchen, letting out a small, silent sigh as she managed to prolong his stay… just a little bit longer. In the past few months, the physical distance stayed the same between them but the emotional distance tore her apart. It was as if she had lost her best friend to _her _and was suddenly flooded with pathetic jealousy. She wanted to be around him for as long as she could possible drag out the situation and even if she was only keeping him longer for a couple of minutes, she was beyond grateful. She took out some candles and a few matches, passing some to him with a soft smile.

He took the candles and matches from her, lighting a few candles in the kitchen as she proceeded to light the living and dining area. With what little light his cellphone provided him and the addition of the newly lit candles, he saw that her home was the antithesis of messy. He suspected that there would magazines all over the floor along with bags, thinking that he would for sure trip and fall. Instead, he saw clean oakwood floors with coloured area rugs. He saw that the kitchen was tidy, with lemons in a glass hurricane jar, a neat spice rack and an opened cook book. What made him smile was the post-its that were stuck to her fridge.

As she lit the candles one by one, she finished with lighting the one sitting on her coffee table in the dining room. She wafted in the scent of that one, drawing in her favourite combination of warm cinnamon and vanilla. She stood up and marvelled at how the darkness was beautifully blemished with the flicker of burning wick. She took in a breath and said, "Huh, look at all these candles. Romantic." Giggling afterwards she added, "And we're both soaked."

She carefully made her way to her bedroom, bringing along a few candles to provide some light. In the near darkness, she was able to find a white tee-shirt and yoga pants in her chest of drawers. With the two articles of clothing in hand, she made her way to the bathroom suite. She took off his suit jacket, she couldn't help but to bring it up to her nose, breathing in his smell and how much she missed it during the times when she would hug him. Shaking her head, she placed it on the bathroom counter as she proceeded taking off her wet clothes. In less than a minute, she was in a white T-shirt and a pair of slim-fit yoga pants. She sighed when she saw her figure in the mirror, figuring out just how many pounds she has lost ever since she took this job, ever since she found out about _them_. Sighing softly, she opened the small linen closet to her left and took out two white towels that were folding neatly on top of each other.

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After he watched her move away from the sporadic arrangement of candles and found her walking into a short corridor. He ran his hand through his wet hair and wiped it afterwards on his pants, regretting doing so as he realized his entire ensemble was drenched with rain. He sighed softy; he should go, he really should get out of here and go back home. But as he breathed in the scent of her home, he decided he didn't want to leave just yet. He glanced around a bit and found that her living room was eccentrically but tastefully decorated. He found a few vinyl records leaning against one a couch that was situated beside a table where the record player sat. He ran a few other facts through his mind; the bracelets, the eccentric bag, and the necklaces. _Jo was a bit of a hippie_.

"Catch!"

He abruptly turned and surprisingly, he caught whatever she threw at him. As he caught the fluffy material, he heard her soft laugh and he too let out a chuckle that mimicked hers.

She was really unsure why she just threw him a towel. She knew he probably doesn't plan to stay and is going to leave right now as _she_ was probably waiting for him at home. Perhaps the simple act of the towel, an offer to dry his hair and face, was an unconscious invitation for him to stay… just a little bit longer.

In the dim candlelight, he caught himself looking at her and became intoxicated with the sight of her ruffling her wet hair with the towel. He noticed that she had changed into a simple white tee-shirt and slim-fit yoga pants. He drank in the view of how her shirt was evidently see through, giving him a sneaky glimpse of her black lace bra and he was also marveled at how her tight yoga-pants clung onto her body. He attempted to look away when she finally looked up and felt slightly embarrassed that she had caught him.

She felt his eyes on her and was left unable to decide whether she was embarrassed or flattered. She probably shouldn't have but she allowed the corners of her lips to curl upwards, giving him one of her crooked smiles as she tipped her head. She mentally cursed at herself as she made herself a promise a few months ago to never play with fire again but her eyes hung on him, wondering what he would do next.

Her cheeky smile was undoubtedly contagious as he found himself slightly grinning at the sight of her and at the sight of the wet, little, tangled mess on top of her head. He was looking right into her peanut-butter eyes and saw how the flickering candles danced in them. And at this very second, he found himself unbelievably, unethically attracted towards her. The desire flooded over him and he was slightly drunk from the feeling. He probably shouldn't have but he allowed his hand to reach out and take a few stray strands, tucking them behind her ear. The tip of his fingers graced the softness of her ear and to his surprise, he wanted to feel more.

Her chest closed tightly, making it excruciatingly difficult to breathe. Letting out a soft sigh, her eyes closed slightly as she leaned into his touch until she felt his palm barely cupping her right cheek. She brought herself out of the bliss and opened her eyes, knowing that enjoying the sensation was ethically wrong. She knew, she knew... but at this very precise moment, she didn't seem to care. Because someone once told her, _you chose what you win or lose; you can't have everything_. She was told not to take chances and never love in vain because love won't set you free. Before this, like many extroverts, she was so unhappy inside but safe as she could be. But she doesn't want safe anymore.

She wanted this for so long. She took a firm hold of his blue cotton shirt, clutching it tightly between her two hands and she looks right into him with lust burning in her eyes. But she quickly looks away, dipping her head down and the side of her forehead brushes the side of his face. She's contemplating hard and a war breaks in her mind.

He could tell that she was thinking about backing away and a part of him wants to walk away from this too. His head told him to walk out of her door and pretend this never happened. But the warmth of her forehead brushing against his cheek and her tight grip on his shirt told his desires otherwise. He nudged her head with his face and made her shift her face a little. Without giving it a second though, he places a soft kiss on her temple and then on her cheek. At the moment, it felt so right.

She couldn't believe what she just felt; the slight roughness of his lips kissing her. She was intoxicated with the feeling. The war was over; reason already lost. She mentally shook her head and just gave in. She abruptly crashed her lips against his, instantly regretting how roughly she kissed him. She feels defeated when he doesn't return the kiss back but then mentally sighed a breath of relief when she felt him surprising deepen the kiss. As she sucks on his bottom lip, she runs a gentle tongue on it, asking for permission to explore. He complies as he parts his lips, giving her whatever she wants. He tastes sweet but slightly bitter. When she feels him kiss back, she wants to taste more of him; both the sweetness and the bitterness. _Dark chocolate_.

He places both of his hands around her slim waist and slides them to the curve of her hips, feeling the exact curve of her body through the thin material. And suddenly, a mental image of _her _invades his head and then a tight pocket of air forms in his throat. He tenses slightly but when he feels her fingers lace through the loops of his trousers, he automatically relaxes. He wants it just as much as she does. And at this very moment, he didn't care about judgment and _she _didn't seem to exist. He gives Jo a gentle push as he takes a step forward, smiling lightly as his mouth and tongue sweetly explores the depths of hers.

With her fingers still intertwined in the loops of his trousers, she gives into his encouraging push and finds her back pressed up against the wall of her corridor. She continues to drink in the intense ravishing of his lips, returning each of stroke of his lips with equal force. The rhythm of her breathing escalates as she feels his warm hands tightly grip onto the curve of her hips.

Her hands find their way to the buttons of his wet cotton shirt and plucks away at the first three. She couldn't help but place a hand on his chest to feel how unbelievably toned it was but feeling his heartbeat sent a wave of emotions over her. She continues her journey, unbuttoning his shirt and grazing her fingertips over his body whenever she had the chance. Feeling the firmness of his abdomen just made her think how goddamn lucky _she_ was to feel this every day.

He drinks in the feeling of her soft, delicate fingers touching him. He's never been touched this way and there's something in her touch that he cannot explain but it was not unfamiliar. He hasn't felt in a long time. He toys with the hem of her tee-shirt, enjoying how soft the skin of her abdomen was underneath. He wants to run his hands all over her body so he slips in a hand under her shirt, grazing his palm and fingertips up the side of her body to her ribcage.

His touch electrifies her. Just before she breaks their kiss, she takes hold of the hem of her tee-shirt. And when their lips part, she slips out of the material, exposing her black lace to him. She knew she didn't have the ideal body but she didn't seem to care; she was always confident in her own skin but in comparison to _hers_, she felt slightly cautious.

"You're beautiful," he whispers in her ear as he slips the straps of her bra down and then reaches to her back, unclasping it with ease. He lets the black lace drop, marveling at what has been exposed in front of him. He smirks lightly and in no time at all, he starts to nibble at her neck. He hears her hum in pleasure. She likes it right below the ear. Wanting to hear more of her, the thumbs the nub of her breasts and, instead of a hum, he senses her chest vibrate under his touch followed by a very audible moan. Hearing her erotic sounds makes him drunk with desire, making his trousers slightly tighter than they were before.

She reaches for his belt as he continues to touch her, squeezing and kissing in all the right places, making her weak with lust with every passing moment. Throwing the belt on the floor, she easily slips off his trousers and leaving him in his boxers. She brings his head up and kisses him, thrusting her tongue in his mouth, wanting to quicken up the pace of things. She switches their position, forcefully flipping them over and pushes him against the wall instead. She grinds her hips into him, feeling his hardness on her and she's delighted that her foreplay renders a baritone moan from him.

He reaches for the hem of her pants as he continues to experience the most satisfying, sweet kiss he has ever tasted, making him harder with lust with every passing moment. He forcefully slips off her yoga pants and saw that her lingerie matches; both black lace with her underwear hugging deliciously around her hips. His arms encircle her waist and then around her bottom, pulling her close to him and lifting her off the floor.

She wraps both legs around his torso and she breaks the kiss to say, "Last bedroom. Left." Even through his boxers, she feels him hard against her and it only turns her on even more, making her want him even more than ever before.

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She pushes him on to the bed as soon as she rids of his boxers. She straddles him and places her palm softly against the rise of his chest as she slowly leans down, wanting to place her lips on his. In her dark bedroom, her body is illuminated by the soft glow of only a few candles, making her body more desirable as the candlelight dances on her hot skin. Surprising her, in one swift movement, he sits up and is face to face with her. His lips finds their way to her neck to place a soft but kiss there but hard enough to make her hum in pleasure. Dipping slightly, he then presses his lips on her collarbone then to the swell of her right breast, down to the tip where he traces a circular figure with his tongue.

With one hand around his neck and the other clutching the hair on the back of his head, her neck arches backwards and her eyes flutter slightly, enjoying the obvious sensation rippling from her chest. And the feeling of his hardness against her inner thigh causes her to blow out a quick breath, a moan of anticipation.

He feels her chest rapidly rise as he gives her one last swirl of his tongue before moving up to nip at the skin on her neck, right below her ear. He suddenly grows weak and his desire grows stronger as he hears her hum, obviously pleased with what he's doing to her. He stops as he feels both of her hands on the side of his face and he grins. He tilts his head up, meeting her halfway as she brings her head down to kiss him, sucking on his lower lip. He doesn't hesitate to deepen the interaction and hastily, roughly pushes her down on the bed, making him superiorly on top of her. The anticipation burns inside of him and he's dying for more of her. Breathlessly breaking away from her lips, he murmurs, "Are you on…"

And while he knows she will probably take a few minutes to reply, he kisses her neck again and this time he continues his venture. He moves down to the rise of her chest, kisses the valley between her breasts, down her ribcage, down to where he can feel the heat radiating from her body. With his index finger, he removes the single article that's keeping her from being completely naked under him. After he slips them off the base of her ankles, he randomly throws them somewhere. He ducks his head down and begins. With each stroke and swirl of his tongue, he feels her moan accompanied by vigorous vibrations of her abdomen and he uses his hands to firmly hold her down.

She breathes heavily, and what he's doing to her renders her speechless. The pure need to hold his head to keep him there erupts inside of her and she tries to control herself, just for a brief moment to answer him. Finding a molecule of oxygen, she brokenly whispers, "Fift… fifty-three.." She knew that he probably had no idea what that meant. She brings her hand to her forehead, and when she feels him suck softly, she exhales sharply, "Mm.. menop.."

As he keeps going, she takes hold of his head and urges him to come up to her. With an outstretched arm, she blindly opens the nightstand to her right and her hands pat every possible item inside. She finds, under her reading glasses case at the very back of the drawer, a small square package that she put there... just in case. Although in her fifties, she still had to be safe. She easily tears the package with her teeth, gives it to him and she breathes in his ear; the murmur of his name and a silent little message to tell him what she needs. He does nothing but comply and takes the package from her.

He smiles down at her before giving her another kiss, seeing if she was alright and she responds with a barely audible, "I need you". He enters her, slowly at first but when he hears the soft whimper of his name, almost like a plea. And when he feels the sudden grip on his wrists, he fully thrusts into her core. As he impales himself into her, her moans turn into soft screams and he feels slightly cocky about it.

Her right leg swings around and wraps around his torso; innately asking him to go deeper, wanting more of him, wanting to feel every inch from every angle. He picks up slightly from behind her knees and her bottom rests comfortably on his hips as he continues to move inside her. He leans down to kiss her while his left hand cups firmness of her breasts. His hands trail along her inner thigh and stop to touch where they are so intimately connected, making her aggressively hum into the kiss.

She breaks the kiss and decides it time for her to take control of the situation, of him. Rolling him over and switching their positions, she straddles him as she forcefully places both palms on his chest to ensure he does not get up this time. She takes her fingers and runs them through her hair, as she mutters a mocking, seductive laugh.

He crookedly grins; partially because of her playfulness and partially a response to the erotic show as she begins her movements. He grips firmly on both sides of her hips and he moves with her; up and down, down and up. With one hand still on her hip, the other finds its way to her center again and he begins to touch her. She arches all the way back to a point where he can barely see her face and only has a pleasurable view of her breasts, exciting him even more than he already was.

She comes back up to face him and her orbs become black as she stares into his eyes. Their movements become heated and aggressively rhythmic, both sexes panting heavily. She grips onto the headboard as she continues to move vigorously faster, his hips meeting the back of her thighs while he continues to touch her, urging and anticipating for her release. Her breathing becomes shallow, hard and sporadic as she contracts around him; once, twice, three times. And she knew that every breath she drew was an intoxicating sin but she couldn't help the feeling of pure ecstasy. As she contracted fourth time, she let out a soft curse of aggressive pleasure as she felt his final thrust into her.

He feels her limp body collapse on top of him as he collapses in her, both of them breathing heavily and simultaneously with each other. He kisses the top of her head and a small smile tugs at her lips. She's still on top of him and he wraps both arms around her, embracing her as her head rests against his chest. She doesn't say anything to him; he doesn't say anything to her and the silent tension of the room consumes them. And after a few minutes, she rolls off of him onto the right side of the bed with her back against him and pulls the sheet over her naked body. A wave of emotions floods over them but two emotions in particular struck them both with equal force; _guilt and regret._

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She's lying on her side with her hand clutched tightly to the inside of the sheets as she stares at the clock on the wall, praying _she_ won't call. It's just another call from home, he'll get it and he'll be gone. They've been laying like this, in complete silence, for the past twenty minutes. Her back to his; his back to hers, they were unable to articulate anything to say to one another. As she replayed the night through her head, thinking about all the things they did, everything she touched, everything he touched, all she could think of was three words; _the other woman_.

He finds his boxers and quickly slips them on along with his undershirt, sitting at the edge of her bed afterwards. He contemplated it; would it be too much to ask for a quick shower? He silently shook his head, knowing that would be inappropriate but he knew that the smell of their night would give away his infidelity. He mentally cursed at himself.

"I have to go."

He sighs softly; she's in his blood, like cheap wine. Bitter and sweet, tinged with regret. His mind is at war, painfully contemplating whether they had made love tonight or did they they just have sex? He never wants to be free of her but he knows, she knows that we all have certain responsibilities and frankly, she's not one of them at this very moment. There's someone waiting in his bed tonight and as much as his heart tells him that there's nowhere in the world he'd rather be than in her bedroom breathing heavily, he has to return home.

She continues to stare at the clock on the wall, facing away from him as she murmurs, "Flashlight's in the kitchen." She can't bear to look at him; it would be too humiliating. She risked a lot of things for a moment giving in, a moment of weakness, a moment of pleasurable bliss. The pressure built behind her eyes and a tight air pocket forms in her throat, constricting her from oxygen. The room around her became smaller and she felt weaker, taking more of the sheet and wrapping it around herself. She didn't dare to make a sound as evidence that would allow him to know that she was crying. She heard him walk away from her bed and towards the entrance of her bedroom door, showing himself the way out. In a careful, husky cadence she heard him say, "I'm sorry."

She couldn't hold it in anymore; the pain demanded to be felt. What killed her was the sudden realization that his black suit jacket was still on her bathroom counter. As a large tear trickled down the side of her cheek and seeped into her pillow, she whimpered, "Me too."

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_**A/N: Hey guys! If you liked this, please go thank Quille who asked, "how about a SWAP?" and then I had to ask, with shame, "what's a SWAP?" Well, for those who are in the dark like I was, SWAP = Smut Without A Plot. I also realize that everything about Mac and Jo is OOC… I know, I know; but I really had to get this idea out of my poor little head. **_

_**I apologize if you didn't like this one; it's my first smutty thing-ie thing. I don't know what the hell I'm doing and this is basically like word vomit. I just used my crazy imagination, ideas (very vivid ideas) from many other fics I've read in various fandoms and ideas from the show, "Nip/Tuck" (the show has **__**insane**__** sex scenes; like soft porn…). Oh, I don't like 'straight-forward' words so I tried to be suggestive… Hope you didn't mind *gulp* **_

_**Leave me a review and tell me what you thought of it!**_

_**Kindest regards, much love,**_

_**J.**_

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"_**She's in his blood, like cheap wine. Bitter and sweet, tinged with regret.",**_ Battlestar Galactica, 2004-2009

_**Black Beauty**_, Lana Del Rey, 2013

_**Stay**_, Sugarland, 2007

_**Happy**_, Leona Lewis, 2009


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